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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27231277">Waiting for a Quiet Storm</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/yingyanggirl/pseuds/yingyanggirl'>yingyanggirl</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Game of Thrones (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Study, Depressing Thoughts, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Waiting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:35:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,802</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27231277</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/yingyanggirl/pseuds/yingyanggirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>On a stormy night, Gendry can't help but make comparisons to his new lands weather and the one person that he misses the most.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Arya Stark/Gendry Waters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Waiting for a Quiet Storm</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Something that popped into my head as I was starting to prep for this year's NaNoWriMo...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Lord Gendry Baratheon stared out of the window of his rooms at Storms End, where they faced the waters that churned from another storm that was coming; not an unusual occurrence for a location that was known as the Stormlands.</p>
<p>He had been a nervous wreck, even if he had managed to hide it well enough, when he had first arrived on the lands that were now his he hadn’t known how he was going to do this; he had never been trained to be a proper Lord, from what he understood they were trained their entire lives and yet he was expected to know what to do in such a short time.</p>
<p>Admittedly Ser Davos was truly invaluable to him in this time of need and he was more than grateful for his help, there was one person that he wanted by his side more…</p>
<p>He gave a huff as he turned away from the window, he was at the point in his mood where looking out at the sea didn’t bring comfort, but rather a bitter reminder of what he had lost and was waiting to return. He barely counted the days anymore, or even the months, just the years; because the number was smaller than either of the former and therefore less depressing.</p>
<p>He didn’t look out at the sea not simply because he was hoping that one day (or night) her ship would come into his port, at least that was not the only reason, but it was also because he would not have a fit if he witnessed her climbing through this window, he would be prepared to face her that way rather than if she had snuck through some other way, and perhaps because he hoped that she would be direct this way.</p>
<p><em>‘If she will even wish to see you,’ </em>a voice in him snarled and the reminder of all that had happened before she left made him want to punch a fist through a wall; his emotions were always in such turmoil whenever he thought about it that even forging could only calm him so much…</p>
<p>Instead he attempted to keep his mind occupied by going through the next day’s agenda, of which there was much to do and so he felt that it was best that he turn in; he blew out the candles that lit the room before he attempted to settle into the featherbed, a difficult task as he was still unused to the sensation of being in one every night.</p>
<p>However, sleep was elusive, it was more often than not, because his head was always filled with her when it wasn’t filled with something else to occupy him and when he did sleep, he dreamed of what might have been had he handled the situation with Arya differently. He could even barely say her name anymore, or think it and when he did it was only when he was alone in his room; he knew that it was the only way he would be able to control or at least safely release his emotions without anyone knowing of this one weakness.</p>
<p>When he did dream, they were in many places, from the times that he had been on the run with her (in hindsight, those were probably some of his happiest memories), to that happiest time when it was the night before the world almost ended, to that damned last time that he had actually spoken with her…</p>
<p>It wasn’t that he hadn’t tried, he had attempted to find her the next morning after that disastrous proposal only to discover that she had already left for King’s Landing; his heart had dropped into his stomach at the realization as to why she had gone so quickly, Cersei and the Mountain had been the last ones on her list as far as he knew.</p>
<p>He had joined the rest of the army as quickly as they had been able to gather before their march to the same destination; he had never been a faithful man before, he had no reason to be, but he had prayed to all of the gods in existence that they (he) wouldn’t be too late…then Daenerys had followed the path set by her father and burned nearly all of the population in the city. He had felt so helpless, not knowing if she had survived her encounter with her last targets only to end up as a casualty of dragon fire…</p>
<p>He had hoped to have a chance to explain himself when the carnage had died down, but he never had a chance, he had even desperately hoped that she would speak to him after the summit (he was sure that she had noticed how he had marked his shoulders, surely he hadn’t imagined her side-eyeing him as she threatened Yara Greyjoy…) but alas his dreams seemed to be crushed.</p>
<p>At least, that was what he had believed, especially when she had sailed away without so much as a farewell to him, until he had been packing up his tent for his journey to Storm’s End and had discovered a letter that had been carefully stashed into his sleeping roll; if he hadn’t been cursing his lack of reading skills before he certainly had been then. The only reason that he knew it was from her was because there was no one else who would write to him and be a sneak about hiding it.</p>
<p>He had carefully kept it on him throughout the journey to his new home, making sure that nothing happened to it and took time to find a good hiding place where no one could stumble upon it, by accident or otherwise; determined to do well in his reading lessons in order to be able to read it, somewhat amused by her taunting him in such a way. It took nearly a year for him to be able to read it fully, after each of his lessons he had taken it out and read the words he could until all was revealed:</p>
<p>
  <em>Gendry,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I realise that we did not part on the best of terms…and for that I am sorry, truly I am, but I could not be with you as you wished for me to. You must understand, I realise that you were asking for the Arya Stark that you knew long ago, but the truth is I have been many different people since then and do not know who Arya Stark even is now. Had you been of more sound mind and used words that I had used long ago, the Arya Stark of old would have said yes; however it would have done us both a disservice if I had accepted without knowing who I truly am now.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>That is why I needed to leave, my family (what is left of it), Westeros…you; I wanted, needed, to find out who I am now and I could not do that here. I do not expect forgiveness from you, but I do hope to earn it with time; I do not expect you to wait for me and if you do not than I still desire to be friends as we once were.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Love, Arya</em>
</p>
<p>Damn her!</p>
<p>That letter possibly hurt more than the rejection itself had been; if she had wanted to find herself than why wouldn’t she allow him to help her, even if it was simply as a friend? He would have been happy to have housed her at Storm’s End during her journey of self-discovery; albeit he also had more selfish reasons of wanting to spend more time with her, perhaps he would have been able to change her mind…</p>
<p>However, that letter also damned him for another reason, because it gave rise to even more hope of her returning to him; and he barely refrained from striking any of his Lord’s for attempting to force their unmarried daughters on him…no, that was a lie, he had not entertained those thoughts even before he could read the full letter.</p>
<p>He had minded his manners around them of course, they were still Ladies, however there were times where such falsehoods had been difficult to maintain (the irony that he was behaving exactly what he had hated was not lost on him); he knew it wasn’t fair, but he never could help but compare them to Arya and found them sorely lacking in more or less everything. He had maintained caution when he had spoken to them, he had not wished to lead them on; for that he had mainly relied on keeping himself at a distance and his ears trained on the conversations between themselves.</p>
<p>He had no desire to remember the drivel of which they had spoken of, it was all nasty gossip anyways, however the Baratheon temper had almost emerged when he had overheard the insults about Arya; he could only walk away completely.</p>
<p><em>‘Was this what she had wanted to walk away from?’ </em>He had wondered more than once, whenever he was alone in his chambers and staring at her letter for only the Gods knew how many times. Also more than once, he always turned whenever he saw a strange shadow out of the corner of his eye, hoping that it was just her being sneaky but always disappointed each time.</p>
<p>As much as he had gotten used to the more violent storms that plagued his lands, perhaps even liked them because they had reminded him of the Arya that he had known years ago, feisty and strong…and merciless; however, there were also times where they caused him grief for that same reason. Not simply because it made him long for her presence, but because it was a reminder of how much she had changed; no longer was she a violent storm, now she was a quiet storm, prone to sneaking up with no warning.</p>
<p>How many times had she nearly given him a fit whenever she had visited the forge at Winterfell? She had become so silent, not the loud mouthed girl that she had been, who also had scars on her body that she had been evasive of when he had inquired of their origins; she was no longer a girl from a violent storm, she was a woman from a quiet one.</p>
<p>That was why he jumped at shadows, he never knew if it was her or not.</p>
<p>The only thing that could get him to sleep now were the memories of that one night with her and he would relieve his frustration before he would fall into a dead sleep; this night was a quiet storm.</p>
<p>As the sun rose the next morning, a cloaked female figure was making their way to the castle gates.</p>
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